


Best Friend's Wedding

by AmityRavenclawElf



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Auradon politics, Awkward Conversations, Bal Wedding, Evie-centric (Disney), F/F, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Mal-Critical But No Bashing, Mostly Dialogue, Post-Descendants 3, Some worldbuilding, fast burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmityRavenclawElf/pseuds/AmityRavenclawElf
Summary: The wedding was Evie's baby, and now it was happening. It should have been a relief, should have allowed her to sink back in her seat and enjoy the fading strains of music, but instead it felt like acid in her throat. She left her balcony seat, slipped into the nearest bathroom, and that was where she ran into Audrey.
Relationships: Ben/Mal mention, Evie/Audrey Rose (Disney), Harry Hook/Uma mention
Comments: 11
Kudos: 53





	Best Friend's Wedding

The wedding was Evie's baby, and it was perfect.

She designed Mal's wedding dress, and Ben's suit, _obviously_ , as well as the clothing of all of the groomsmen and bridesmaids and nearly all of the big-name guests. The way she responded when Fairy Godmother innocently suggested a professional designer handle such things inspired jokes about a "Bridesmaidzilla" that didn't die down in all of the months leading up to the ceremony itself.

The decorations and flashy bits were technically handled by Jane and Lumiere, but Evie was the person they consulted in Mal's stead when they had a question about color or material, and shortly enough she graduated to micromanaging flower arrangements and podiums and songbird choirs, predictably causing a ramp-up in the Bridesmaidzilla jokes.

But that was all fine, because on the day of the wedding, she got to stand there in the audience and observe that the ceremony was perfect.

And oh how restless that made her.

Hadie was the ring bearer, to honor Mal's Isle heritage and as an unspoken backhand to the numerous news outlets that had recently started raising questions about whether Mal was _really_ Hades's daughter (and producing uncomfortably compelling evidence for their claims, which had caused Mal to throw her hairbrush at the TV one irate evening). The flower girl was a young daughter of Rapunzel, to honor Ben's Auradon heritage and because King Beast would make a political outreach gesture out of anything. (He had offered the prestigious role to one of Queen Tiana's little girls first, as Maldonia was a good deal more standoffish towards them than Corona was, and had received back a very polite letter saying that Little Eudora had a dentist appointment that she just couldn't miss on the day of the wedding, and also seemingly on the days before and after. The letter did go on to add that Queen Tiana's alligator friend was willing to play at the reception, likely to soften the impact of the refusal.)

From her balcony spot (which she had opted for by choice, because it gave her a good perspective over the festivities and kept her invisible enough that she could run out and fine-tune if she had to), Evie saw the two little heads approach the altar where Fairy Godmother waited with her wand and her sappy, benevolent expression. Hadie's blue hair was pomaded and smoldering rather than upright and aflame, and Sunny's natural dark spikes were curled to frame her cherubic face. The two moved at a stilted pace, because Sunny was young enough to have a sort of doddering gait and Hadie was old enough to be embarrassed by all the attention. But they looked cute, and that was what mattered; cameras flashed, and Evie felt winded, sure that she should be somewhere doing something but unsure of where or what.

The music crescendoed as the children neared the altar. Evie spotted Harry near the front of the crowd below, waving his arms grandly to mock the conductor, and Uma next to him, a vision in turquoise, lightly whacking him with a church fan. She saw Harry duck down to kiss Uma's cheek, and she saw Uma's hand rise to card through his hair, and she looked away, feeling voyeuristic and somehow worried that someone would know she was looking.

She was supposed to be doing something, wasn't she? What was it? What had she missed?

And then the swell of the music peaked, the curtains at the back of the room parted, and Mal emerged on Jay's arm while Ben took to the altar, watching her approach him with open adoration.

Evie watched her approach him, too, because she couldn't look away. Her eyes raked over her dress and his suit and the flower petaled aisle and the ring on Hadie's cushion, trying to spot the flaw.

It wasn't until the distance closed, until Jay was placing Mal's hand in Ben's and whispering something that made them both chuckle, that Evie realized.

Nothing was wrong.

She had planned the perfect wedding.

And now her role in it was over.

It should have been a relief, should have allowed her to sink back in her seat and enjoy the fading strains of music, but instead it felt like acid in her throat.

She had planned the perfect wedding, and it was happening now, and nothing she did would make it any better.

She left the balcony, as invisibly as intended. (She wondered whether a part of her had known that she would need to slip out for this reason instead of any of her made-up reasons. In hindsight, she had never really provided a solid reason for not staying near Carlos or Jay or even the other bridesmaids, had she?) Out in the reception area, Jane was supervising as the last smattering of guests found their way inside; Evie ducked behind a plant to avoid Jane's sweeping gaze and instantly felt quite stupid. She was allowed to be outside; no one had to know _why_. She spied the nearest bathroom and slipped gracefully into it.

That was where she found Audrey.

The daughter of Aurora was perched prettily on the edge of the bathroom counter, fidgeting with her hair (She had gone back to the fluffy brown curls that so complemented her, and her makeup was dark and sultry and reminiscent of her stint as the Queen of Mean. A striking contrast to the cupcake-sweet swirling mass of pink silk that was her gown. She was more than beautiful; she was absolutely radiant.) and gazing at her own reflection.

"You look lovely," Evie said, and Audrey nearly fell into the sink basin.

"You snuck up on me!" she accused, steadying herself and looking quite embarrassed.

Evie managed a smile. It wasn't as hard as it might have been two seconds prior; Audrey's startled expression was both funny and adorable. "Apologies," she said.

Audrey eyed her warily. "Am I...in your way?" she asked after a second. Ever since the Incident, it seemed that she didn't quite know how much space to occupy.

"No, you're fine," Evie said, wondering whether she would have to actually go into a bathroom stall to keep the charade alive. She decided against it; Audrey didn't seem particularly curious as to why she was here. Instead, she sidled up to the half of the mirror that Audrey wasn't monopolizing and gazed into it. She still looked as put-together as she had this morning. Maybe a little shaky, but nothing other people would notice. She was learning to be more objective about herself. To see which flaws weren't obvious to people who weren't her. So she knew that she, in fact, looked perfectly composed.

"Is this as excruciating for you as it is for me?" Audrey asked softly.

Well. The fact that she was lingering in the bathroom during the wedding of her best friend and staring at herself in the mirror for way too long might have been a _bit_ telling.

"It's okay, you know," Audrey added. "Everyone cries at weddings; they won't ask themselves what you're crying about. And you're a pretty crier; I remember from the Coronation."

"Why would I cry?" Evie asked. And she really was asking, because she did feel like crying and she wished she knew why.

"Maybe you love him. Or you love her. Or both." She shook her head sadly, as if commiserating with her reflection. "Both would be agonizing."

Nettled, Evie said, "Who are _you_ in love with, then? To make this so 'excruciating' for you?"

Audrey's lips poked out for a second. "Myself, I guess."

Evie let out an involuntary and very breathy laugh. "That is an answer that would have gotten you far, on the Isle."

Bringing up the Isle around Audrey came as a reflex, now, because Mal had once gathered the other three together and said, "Mention the Isle around her whenever you can; it makes her uncomfortable, watch." This time, however, Evie wasn't aiming to get a funny reaction out of her; there really was something familiar about the way Audrey used her vanity and pride to deflect. Something Evie had never considered might also exist in Auradon.

"Really?" Audrey said, instead of flinching. She tilted her head, as if intrigued by the thought. (Evie hoped she wouldn't be the one running off to the Isle next. Because Evie _would_ go after her if she did, but she wasn't sure how many people she could count on helping. More likely, Mal would just try to stop her from following at all.) "I just figured, if I want to sequester myself in a public bathroom and feel sorry for myself instead of watching my life-long betrothed marry someone else, I'm within my rights."

The memory of Audrey fleeing the tourney field with a horrified look, of her quickly saving face for both herself and Ben by loudly declaring that she was with Chad, flashed through Evie's mind. She felt suddenly defensive. "They deserve each other. Mal and Ben. They're in love."

"They can be in love. Ben deserves to be happy." Audrey twirled her finger in her silk hem and seemed to think over her next words. "I was always taught that love is hard work. You have to maintain it, work at it all the time. So I worked, and Ben worked, for our entire lives. We worked on loving each other, and being good for each other, and then Mal walks in and...all of a sudden there's no work anymore. Just...messiness. Drama. Passion. Copious amounts of mind control. Public scenes. And I'm alone. And Grammy wants to know how I managed to fail two royal bloodlines. How I spent my whole life learning to be loved and my mother spent hers in a secluded cabin in the woods and I'm the one who _didn't_ manage to marry a king." She giggled, not quite gracefully; apparently, Princess Audrey had kind of a dorky laugh. "Turns out I wasn't really learning to be loved, I was learning to be useful. And it wasn't enough, so now I'm not even useful anymore. Wait, did you sew that yourself?" Audrey dropped down from the counter and gently ran her fingers over the stitching on Evie's dress. "It's so intricate. You have to film tutorials or something; you'd get so many views."

Evie watched Audrey examine her clothes at this close range. She smelled like vanilla-scented lotion and rose petal perfume. "Mal used magic. You know that, right?"

Audrey looked up, her big brown eyes meeting Evie's for possibly the first time today. "The love potion? Yes, I heard about it while I was on vacation."

"Then how can you think that you're to blame?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. Everyone says that if Ben didn't come running back to me as soon as he came out of the Enchanted Lake, then I must have been about to lose him anyway. So, love potion or no, the failure is mine."

"But one person not being in love with you doesn't mean you're not..." Evie trailed off, hearing herself suddenly. She blushed, and thought about how she was missing her best friend's wedding, and how she was a coward.

Audrey shook her head again, slowly, her eyes shining and ever so slightly damp-looking. "You deserve to be happy, too," she said. "You know that?"

Evie donned her most dazzling smile. "It doesn't matter what I know, now does it?"

Audrey seemed to notice how close they were, now; she took two steps back and returned to playing with the hem of her dress. 

"It's pretty," Evie observed. Because it was; Audrey was always pretty, but this dress might have been her best. It complimented her shape, her complexion, her makeup, her hair. She looked sweet but untouchable and remote.

"Flora and Merryweather did most of the work," Audrey replied, with a bashful smile. "I just sketched it."

"You draw designs?" Evie eyebrows rose. She didn't sketch out designs much; she didn't have the drawing skills. Normally she just visualized what she wanted when she saw a fabric she liked, and frustrated herself when she couldn't quite perfect the journey from her brain to reality. "We should partner up sometime; we could really take over the school."

Audrey smiled, but her next words were melancholy: "School ends soon."

"Then I guess we'll just have to take over the world," Evie amended lightly.

Now, Audrey laughed and flinched at the same time, and a tear leaked from one of her eyes before she hastily turned away, mortified.

Evie whipped out a handkerchief and turned Audrey back around. "Here you go."

Refusing to make eye contact, Audrey dried her eyes. "Sorry. The scepter would say things like that."

"It spoke to you?" Evie lost control of her expression, her brow furrowing in fascination and concern.

"Mm-hm. That's why I picked it up; it was calling my name. It promised that everything wasn't ruined, that everything was going to be fine, and...Sorry." For what had to be the third or fourth time, Audrey quickly shook her head.

"No, tell me."

After a wary pause, she continued, "...and I spent half the day just letting everything I'd been holding in spill out of me, and I couldn't think of anything being wrong or bad, I couldn't, because the scepter said that everything was fine now. It felt... _so_ good. It was warm, and there was a voice that was always there that seemed to only exist to keep me happy. Nothing bad that happened could stick to me anymore. Everything was just bright and warm and...blurry. Fuzzy. But then I woke up, and it turned out everything was terrible. Everything was dark and cold and clear and I was alone again. And I couldn't just...tell someone how bad it felt, because who cares, right? I'm the one who picked up the scepter in the first place. I didn't know it could take control of people; I thought the worst it might do is kill me." She broke off, realizing she'd said too much.

"Audrey, have you told no one else about this?" Evie said, her concern only increasing. "What about your grandmother?"

Audrey scoffed. "As if. Grammy avoids me."

"What about Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather?"

"They're...They're very sweet and supportive, but they don't want to talk about it. Not even just because they don't want to see me that way, but also...they miss magic so much, and they don't like...when you bring it up. I never want to make them sad."

Evie knew better, by now, than to ask about Audrey's parents; Phillip and Aurora were very in love with each other, and they were very in love with seeing the world. They did not invest much time in royal affairs or their own daughter. They had been extremely affectionate with Audrey, the one brief time Evie had seen them in person, twirling her around and kissing her cheeks, but they weren't present or reliable for the day-to-day wear-and-tear of Audrey's life.

"Would you like to tell me what else you're bottling up, then?" Evie asked.

"We were talking about you, before!" Audrey recalled, half-accusatorially. "How did you turn things around?"

Evie smirked. "Years of practice."

Audrey smiled back at her, a delicate little smile, but seemed somehow to withdraw a bit without physically moving. Another bit of Isle behavior; Audrey was not going to continue making herself vulnerable to someone who was not becoming vulnerable in turn. Perhaps some things were more universal than they seemed.

Well. It was only fair, wasn't it?

"I love both of them," Evie confessed, and she was surprised to find that just saying it caused her eyes to start prickling. She wasn't moved to feel embarrassed about it. "I love both of them, a lot. Too much." Her words didn't begin to cover her feelings, but even saying so little felt enormous. "My mother taught me to be useful, too. To become whatever people want or need. And it served me well, but..." She gestured outside, to indicate the ongoing wedding. "I guess it just doesn't compare to true love."

"True love is just the raw ingredient," Audrey said, drawing close to Evie again and seeming not to realize it. "Feeling love doesn't mean a thing if there isn't kindness, respect...If someone is bad for you..." Then she glanced briefly in the direction of the ceremony, as well, and hastily said, "No offense."

Out of loyalty to Mal, Evie couldn't say "None taken", but she couldn't begrudge Audrey her words, either. So, silence fell as she mulled over whether she would ever be a good enough person that her goodness surpassed her loyalty. She had tasted it, briefly, when she had discovered Mal's plans to close the barrier. For that moment, loyalty had taken a back seat. But it hadn't stayed there.

"True love is overrated," Audrey went on, in a firm, if resigned, tone. "And 'happily ever after'. What even _is_ that, when you think about it? Why does everything have to be about forever? Isn't it good enough to be happy for a moment? A week, a day?" Her rant began to taper into a wistful sigh.

Evie thought about being happy for a whole day. That could feel like forever, or not nearly long enough. "I'm sure it's not the same kind of happy the whole time," she offered. "I'm sure it changes, as they do." Different kinds of happy every day, how nice would that be. Like the revelation that Auradon Prep had different meals every day.

"Sometimes I..." Audrey paused, cleared her throat, continued. "Sometimes I dream about going back to the museum. And to the scepter. Just to have someone tell me everything is going to be okay. I would never do it," she hastily added.

"I know you wouldn't," Evie assured her. "The scepter is a centuries-old magical artifact, and you were vulnerable. I've..." She paused, struggling with the Auradon concept of emotional reciprocity versus the Isle tactic of keeping everything close to the chest, before she decided to continue, "I've wanted to go back to see my mom."

Audrey blinked, her eyes wide and worried.

"So," Evie continued, "you're not alone in sometimes wanting what's bad for you."

"I guess it's a good thing we're so good at denying ourselves."

That was them. The self-denial girls. The girls with the invisible sacrifices, where they chased princes to make others happy and then stopped chasing princes to make others happy and then cried in secret, in bathrooms.

Together.

"So," Audrey said, clearing her throat and letting out a little laugh, "I guess this _is_ as excruciating for you as it is for me. Think they'd notice if we took off? Got our nails done?"

"Yes," Evie chuckled. "If not them, then someone would manage to get a picture of us sneaking out."

"True. Guess we stay in here, then, and wallow." Detecting Evie's hesitation, Audrey continued, "If you still think they'll notice you're not in there, I can tell people I was choking on a piece of gum and you were saving me."

"For the whole wedding?"

"It was a big piece of gum."

"Haha! No, thank you. I'm sure they'll just assume I'm fixing something or other. Bridesmaidzilla, you know." Audrey only stared blankly, so she elaborated, "That's what people have been calling me. Like Bridezilla. It was a whole meme; hopefully it's over now that the wedding is...happening."

"Oh. I hadn't heard that joke, and I stay off the Internet lately except to stream reality shows. Was it really a whole meme? The wedding preparations have been going on for months; that must have been annoying."

"It was all in good fun." Evie came to a decision; she hoisted herself up to sit on the counter's edge, and Audrey gladly followed suit. Their elbows brushed against each other as they got settled. "How's about we bunker here until the wedding's over, and stick together for the reception? I'm sure it won't be as unpleasant with..." With a friend? That didn't sound right; if Audrey was a friend, then what was Mal? She almost finished 'with a date', but she lost her courage before the words could come out.

Audrey seemed not to need her to finish her sentence, though; she beamed, and it was simply dazzling. "It's a deal!"

"Maybe afterward you can show me some of your sketches," Evie added, and Audrey's expression turned wary:

"Oh, they're really nothing..."

"Nonsense; Uma told me you're a skilled artist."

"She..." Audrey frowned. " _Uma_ told you? How does Uma know?"

Oh, right. Evie winced. "She...read your diary. While we were looking for you. You know..."

"Ah." Audrey lifted her head and nodded it down slowly. "Right."

"She said your sketches were very good."

"I'm just a tiny bit humiliated. You're saying _Uma_ read my diary? Evie, I'm so, so petty in it; you really have no idea. I must have sounded insufferable."

"She didn't say you were petty or insufferable; she said you had good sketches and that Mal ruined your life."

Audrey still looked quite concerned, but all she said was a quiet, "Huh." Then, after a pause, she continued, "I owe her a 'thank you', anyway."

"Mal?" Evie said, surprised.

"Uma," Audrey clarified. "If she hadn't refused to be a bridesmaid, I would never have had the courage to refuse, too."

"I really didn't even know it was offered to you." (She had known about Uma; Mal had been quite wounded and hadn't spoken to Uma for several days when the latter had bluntly refused Mal's offhand invitation to be a part of the wedding. Her reasoning had been that she didn't want to be seen as decoration or as Mal's subordinate, as that would undermine her role as a Royal Councilor and damage the Isle kids' trust that she would stand up for them first and foremost. It had, regardless, taken two weeks for reconciliation to occur between her and Mal.)

"Oh yes. Ben and both of his parents called me to his office suggesting I appear as one of the bridesmaids to show Auroria that I endorse the marriage. Apparently, a lot of people, in my kingdom and others, don't like the fact that Auroria agreed to submit to Auradon rule on the premise that their royal family would be tied with King Adam's, and now they're still under Auradon rule and their royal family has been..." Audrey trailed off, then shook her head. "Was it selfish of me to refuse?"

"I don't think so. But maybe I'm not the best person to ask."

"Shut up; you are _so_ selfless."

"You're saying this to the person who is currently missing her best friend's wedding just because she feels kind of sad."

"The wedding you _planned_. You _gave_ her this wedding; you showed your support. You can duck out all you want; she'll still have her happily ever after." ( _Without you._ Evie imagined the words herself, and they did hurt, but not as much as she'd expected them to. Like the receding ache of an old wound.) "You're not a bad person for wanting to be happy. And you're definitely not a bad person for wanting not to be sad."

Feeling weak, Evie rested her forehead against Audrey's shoulder, and their arms went around each other too fast to know who had initiated the embrace. Audrey's face burrowed into the side of Evie's neck, and everything was so soft and vulnerable and flowery-smelling. She felt as though nothing could procure Audrey from her arms. As though only they could break their hold on each other. Maybe there was something powerful about being sad together, or maybe the potential for this had lived in their interactions all along.

Audrey was soft. Not as muscled as Evie, though there was that telltale firmness of athleticism. Evie felt a most unfamiliar flavor of curiosity, and she hastily suppressed it, but it hovered right below the surface.

"What's after this, for you?" Audrey asked. Her lipgloss was beginning to smear against Evie's skin. She pulled back just a little. "Home to your castle?"

"I guess so." In honesty, Evie hadn't thought that far ahead. The idea of returning to her place alone, with no wedding plans to occupy herself, seemed to open up the floor beneath her. But Audrey's grip kept her out of a free fall.

"How about a sleepover?" The princess sat up. "At my place or yours. We can dance to trashy pop songs, eat ice cream, burn the leftover wedding programs, watch musicals, make fun of old fashion trends..." Audrey kept listing things at an ever-quickening pace, her eyes lighting up and her voice high and bubbly.

Evie lost track of Audrey's exact words, instead staring at her excited face and soaking in her energy. She wondered if Auroria loved their princess. They had to, right? Give or take a scepter, she represented them with dignity and good spirits. She smiled and waved and cared deeply. Evie imagined being a commoner in Auroria and watching Princess Audrey, bubbly and polite, grow up with Prince Ben, sweet and caring. Imagined, from their perspective, watching the princess who had worked to be everything they expected be publicly betrayed in such a careless way. It was no wonder there were political tensions, no wonder the royal family wanted to stamp Audrey's seal of approval over this wedding somehow.

"...do each other's makeup, we..." Audrey gasped mid-sentence. "We could do online quizzes to see which mermaid we are!"

Evie leaned in and kissed Audrey on the lips. It was impulsive and risky, but it was soft and sweet and warm. Audrey exhaled, as though every ounce of tension was leaving her body. Evie's hands floated up to frame Audrey's face for a second, and then she was about to start to break off the kiss, but Audrey surged forward, then, and deepened it. There was enthusiasm, excitement, to Audrey's movement, more than one would expect from a kiss with a princess, and it melted away the last of Evie's reservations and nervousness; she slid her hands around to the back of Audrey's head to hold her closer, and Audrey's hands moved up Evie's arms to her shoulders and settled at her back. Audrey exhaled again, this time more of a delighted whimper, and Evie felt utterly intoxicated by it. By the smell of flowers and vanilla and the taste of Audrey's lipstick and...She managed to flutter her eyes open and, little by little, separate their lips.

They breathed for a second. Evie gently untangled Audrey's hair from her chandelier earrings.

"I love these," she said, with a wink.

Audrey giggled, winded and glowing and using her thumb to fix Evie's lipstick where it had evidently smudged.

"Was that okay?" Evie asked, more soberly.

"I hope so," Audrey said. "Can we do it again?"

Evie smiled. "Maybe not in a bathroom. There's always that sleepover you were talking about."

"Turn," Audrey ordered, gesturing at the smudge of her own makeup on Evie's neck. Evie turned to let Audrey tidy her up. "I've never...I mean, Grammy would..." She let out an embarrassed little laugh. "Oh, just think of how people would react if they knew about this."

"It's already in vogue to talk about VKs like we're catnip for rich people," Evie pointed out. "Especially now that the pirates are here. Everyone would probably say you succumbed to my wiles."

"I'm sure Mal would pin me to a wall if she thought I was messing around with your feelings," Audrey added. "My kingdom would feel betrayed about my liking girls, and about me not just staying the heartbroken princess they can rally behind."

"Does your kingdom not allow for same-sex relationships?" Evie asked, surprised.

"They allow it, but they don't like it." Audrey's voice had risen a whole octave, and the hand that was still wiping smears of color from Evie's neck quickened its pace nervously. "Cinderellasburg and Charmington are similar. Maldonia, Agrabah, Corona, and Arandelle are the really open-minded ones. DunBroch is coming around, in the wake of Merida's revelation that she isn't attracted to anyone. The Southern Isles are pretty ambivalent. Camelot..." Audrey paused. "In hindsight, I probably should have known that I liked girls when I committed all of this to memory."

"Will it be a secret, then?" Evie turned to face Audrey, whose hand was still aloft to scrub at what _must_ have been clean by now. She guided the princess's hand back down to her side. "Do you want it to be a secret?"

Audrey swung her feet idly through the air. "Do you?"

"I only care what my friends think, and they won't mind. Although you're right that Mal might pin you to a wall; I'll be sure to tell her not to."

A flicker of a smile.

"You're the one with Auroria to worry about," Evie continued. "Are you ready for them to know?"

"I'm more concerned with what they'll say about you than what they'll say about me," Audrey confessed. "I've never...challenged them before. If the press said they hated my hair, I just...changed it. If they didn't like my style, my voice, my personality, I would just make changes until they liked me again. But if they say something about you..." Audrey seemed to steel herself. "I'll _have_ to put my foot down."

Evie felt as though her heart was turning to goo. She had, of course, been defended on the Isle, quite often and quite well, but being defended by someone who would not defend herself felt different. "Well." She cleared her throat. "Let it be known that their spree of critiquing you unopposed is going to end."

Audrey's brow furrowed, as if she couldn't comprehend what was being said.

"So," Evie continued. She dropped down from the counter and started to pace. She delighted in the fact that Audrey's lovely eyes followed her. "What are we calling this?" She was not normally quite so straightforward, but she was tired of pining and ambiguity. "Are we friends who kiss? Are we...?" She trailed off. She had never done this before.

Audrey took a deep breath, seeming to conquer nerves of her own, and helpfully finished for her, "...not just friends?"

"Well, which do you think?"

Audrey shrugged helplessly, and it dawned on Evie that they would stay in this orbit forever if they didn't decide to leave it. They would keep moving in the same circular path, held in place by the fear of rejection, the fear of not being told what to do. Hadn't that been her whole life? Orbiting people and waiting for _them_ to pull her out of it? Waiting for someone to choose her, save her, seize control of her endless movement?

Apparently Audrey realized this at the same time, for she dropped down from the counter, too. Her shoes made a loud, authoritative _clack_ sound as she landed, echoed by the vacant space of the room and by the fact that one foot contacted the floor a nanosecond before the other did. "I think I should like to consider trying to be your girlfriend," she said, primly and with some circumlocution. "Provided you are willing to consider trying to be mine."

Evie grinned and adopted Audrey's official tone. "Well then, should the princess prove agreeable, I move that we discuss the terms of such an arrangement at the proposed sleepover."

"I second your motion."

Audrey's stately persona was well in-place, and Evie couldn't help letting out a long giggle. She slipped her arm through Audrey's and stared down at where the skirts of their dresses met in a swirl of pink and blue. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I don't think I'd mind going back in now. Would you?"

Audrey tilted her head back, evidently performing a thorough self-evaluation, and at last replied, "I don't think I would. This conversation has been very cathartic, and it'll be nice not to have to stand there by myself."

"I've got a balcony seat. Would you care to join me?"

"Love to. Fair warning, though; when the reception starts, Chad will more than likely manage to break off from the other groomsmen, and he will want to hang out."

"I don't mind Chad; he's had his share of humble pie over the years."

"He's not the only one." Audrey straightened her back and indicated the door with a majestic flourish. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Evie purred, taking the first step forward.

"Happily ever right now?"

"Happily ever right now."

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! This might be my first attempt at a one-shot, at least for Descendants. Definitely my first full attempt at Audrevie content.


End file.
